The One-and-a-Half Person Kitchen —by Jinny Batterson
Before we downsized to our current condo, we had a huge eat-in kitchen, complete with a slate floor, an island, and a dining area for six. When we entertained, there would sometimes be three or four people working in the kitchen at once—slicing, plating, baking, washing up, whatever. Our present kitchen facilities are much smaller, with a basic gas range, fridge, sink, small pantry closet, and limited counter space. Though the floor area is a bit wider than a galley kitchen, it’s not really expansive enough to hold two chefs at the same time.
Usually this is not a problem. Even before our downsizing, we’d divvied up family meal responsibilities—whoever cooked did not clean up, so we had an orderly succession, with just one person in the kitchen for each phase of a meal. At our current digs, we do very little in-home entertaining, so it’s unlikely that guests will disrupt this standard meal arrangement.
What has become an occasional problem is breakfast. My spouse and I have different dietary restrictions for our aging, somewhat crotchety bodies: I need to restrict salt; he needs to restrict carbs. If our sleep patterns diverge enough so only one of us is awake and breakfast-hungry at a time, all is well. When we both want to have breakfast at the same time, things can get a little complicated. Jim may reach into the refrigerator door for his morning beverage of choice—diet soda—at the same time I’m trying to extract a yoghurt container from an interior shelf. With some preplanning, we can share parts of the same menu: quinoa pancakes, basic omelets, yoghurt and fruit, or whole wheat toast.
It’s usually the little things that trip us up: who’s responsible for retrieving then heating the syrup (sugar-free from the pantry closet for him, maple from the fridge for me)? Who gets the butter or margarine? How about getting the flatware out of the drawer that’s just below the only counter space near the stove? To an outside observer, we might look like either a feuding couple or the most awkward dancers on the planet. We’ve improved a little over several years of breakfast improvisation, but not a whole lot. Lately, Jim has discovered a low-carb sugar substitute that goes wonderfully with a fresh grapefruit half, one of the lower-carb fruits on his “good list.” I’ve further complicated our breakfast dance by getting him a grapefruit sectioning knife, which he proudly uses, clogging up any available counter space. Ah, well. Whose turn is it to make lunch?